Tender Beasts
by Morithil
Summary: An older, more powerful and still emotionally scarred Subaru takes on a job overseas. His work takes him to Bon Temps and puts him on the trail of Russell Edgington as past and present take on a painful symmetry and dreams spill over into reality.
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: I realize that Subaru would be significantly older than the age I've given him if he were to enter the current True Blood world (he's already 25 when X/1999 begins, after all), but something dies in me when I think of him growing old. Forgive a fan's affection if you will, readers.

T E N D E R B E A S T S

1. ヘイヘイ答えて、誰かいませんか？ ~ _SPYAIR_, サムライハート

It was like Tokyo in midsummer. Worse, in fact. A cloying, heavy heat that permeated walls and laughed at electric fans, the kind that his grandmother's sprawling residence stubbornly favoured over the blessed chill of air conditioning.

Tokyo was a million miles away. Far away, underwater, reduced to rubble and wire, neon static overload flooding the corneas of thousands all night – everything and nothing. For he was here and Tokyo, along with every sharpened memory it held, was not.

Was it cruel fate that had named this swampy, overheated outstation Bon Temps or merely some historical figure's wry sense of irony? Subaru wondered, idly toying with the fabric of his left glove. It made no sense to don gloves in such humidity, but old habits die hard, and for all his still-youthful face and years belied, Subaru was fast becoming a creature of habit.

Ofuda. Gloves. Stare.

He had holed himself up, for the time being, in the cheapest motel in town, the kind frequented by humans, vampires and their lovers, also human and vampire alike, interchangeable and disposable every night. A roulette wheel of twisting, interlocking bodies given over to the night, the void, oblivion.

Subaru was never one for gambling.

After The Loss and the Saving Of The World, the latter of which was only relevant and known to those who had actually fought for it, Subaru had spent years he hadn't bothered counting living from job to job, taking every request that came, not for need of money (The Loss had seen to that in characteristically lavish fashion) but for need of mental occupation to stop himself doing the sensible thing and taking a gun to his head. It had taken a mere two days after the phone call to pack a minimal suitcase, notify all those legally concerned of his temporary absence and leave Japan. There had been the initial backlash of concern and stunted contact beforehand. The Kishu girl had sent a New Year's greeting card, elegantly written in minimal prose, a surprising arrival after her sudden departure from Tokyo. Aoki-san had sent a flood of well-meaning invitations to dinner, lunch, et cetera. Subaru had thanked him in his usual monotone and sent his regards to his wife and daughter in refusal. Monou Fuuma could not look him in the face on the rare, unlooked-for occasion that they crossed paths downtown. Subaru cared little.

An international matter, his first, excluding a brief exorcism at the American Embassy in Chiyoda-ku, but that at least had given him cause to exercise his English. Obaasan had been exceptionally thorough in his and Hokuto's education. Languages were crucial, and while he now struggled (albeit half-heartedly) to conjure forth once-routine responses in Hangul, English had settled in his brain and was there to stay. Fortunate, given that for the immediate future he would be speaking little else.

Hokuto had taken to Hangul as she had taken to every single Technicolor drama Korea put forth. He had recorded them, burnt copies of the most recent series he had thought she would appreciate, labeled all correctly and ranked them in order of those she would want to devour first, before reminding himself for the seven hundred and seventy-seventh time that she was still dead.

Vampires. Witches. Werewolves. An almost-genocide. A televised murder. A 2000 year old immortal lunatic on the loose. America certainly did do everything bigger.

He had introduced himself to the Mississippi King the previous night. Etiquette, and the fact that he would need some inside contact for information on the matter demanded it. A pale man with a stern, aristocratic face (Subaru knew breeding when he saw it), a courtly slant to his Southern drawl and an half-hidden look in his eyes that Subaru knew for the same one he had worn all through his teens and beyond. I have lost something that cannot be replaced, it said. There were armed guards throughout the impressive plantation house. One look at William Compton told Subaru the vampire was more lethal than his entire troop of would-be bodyguards could ever prove.

"You'll be staying in Bon Temps a while, Mr. Sumeragi?"

"Until my business is completed"

The King rose from behind his desk, moving to lean against its front.

"I must tell you that Bon Temps, its humans and vampires alike have had enough of newcomers in town. We do not mix well with the weres and they likewise with us. There is half-truce of sorts between some individuals, but largely we stand at odds. As for the humans, well", an elegant half-shrug, "they've seen enough, I fear".

Subaru reflected with a similar lifting of shoulders.

"I did not come here expecting friends, your Highness"

"Bill", the vampire intoned with the barest ghost of a smile.

"Subaru"

"How old are you, Subaru?" A casual slump to sit on the edge of the desk, hands clasped, legs relaxed.

"Twenty eight" An almost lie. He would be 29 in a few hours, but an onmyouji's age was not something to be thrown about in idle conversation.

"Ah", the vampire's countenance was crossed with something Subaru belatedly recognized as wistfulness and twitched in response, "you don't look it"

"So I've been told"

A silence dropped from ceiling to plush carpet. Bill eyed the young man with one good eye and one – unnerving – with a serious look. This slender human with gloved hands and a face as pretty as a porcelain doll's for all its emotionless passivity was very powerful, every intuitive vampiric trait in his body told him as much. The scent of his blood alone would kickstart brainwaves in any vampire's head, no matter how long dead to the world. Heady, exhilarating, generations-old and decades-honed power pulsed, no – roared silently through that deceptive frame. He was also wounded, Bill reflected, but that was the dead human in him talking. He wondered how long it would be before Sookie took him in. She was always one to show kindness to lone strays. But Sookie was no longer his, and time, as Bill had had nearly two centuries to learn, was an ineffective healer.

"Merlotte's is a good place to start. The owner is one of the two-natured and will probably spare you a moment if you don't start a riot. I would offer you rooms here, there are more than enough", a wry grin opened the vampire's mouth, "if I thought you would take them. Then again, I can control myself but Jessica" something like paternal affection flickered in the stony gaze, "my progeny, may find the scent of your blood too much of a temptation"

"Thank you for the advice" Subaru turned to leave with a customary nod.

"Mr. Sumeragi?"

Subaru looked over his shoulder, his hand on the doorknob.

"Welcome to Mississippi"

There were worse ways to pass an oppressive summer evening in a strange place, Subaru paused. The vampire- _Bill's_ company was not repellent. He had been a pleasant, if reserved host. Dinner, (for Bill as expected took nothing but sipped quietly from a glass dark with what Subaru hoped was True Blood) had been a pleasant surprise. Evidently the King saw fit to keep a competent human chef in his house for non-fanged guests. The redhead vampire with wide eyes and a hungry mouth had started like an awkward teenager coming through the door as he made his way out – the aforementioned Jessica, no doubt – but had surprised him with a muffled 'hello' before heading up the stairs. Subaru thought he heard strains of that genre they called country from her earphones.

Sam Merlotte, on the other hand, was suspicious and on guard from the moment he knew Subaru had stepped inside the husky interior of the eponymous bar. Another redhead, older, still flaunting herself in a too-small uniform theatrically stifled an "Oh Lordy may", clutched her menu to her chest on seeing him before scuttling towards the steam billowing racket that screamed kitchen.

Subaru took the only empty booth after a crew of plaid shirted shoulders eyeballed him grimly from the bar stools.

"_Stare back, Subaru"_

_Uncomfortable, nervous, verging on twitchy, Subaru clasped and unclasped gloved hands. He wished for the hundredth time that morning that Hokuto would make clothes less – noticeable. Subaru sought refuge in anything – the maps above the doors, the swaying handgrips, the carriage floor. Today's creation would have been ineffectual had his sister drawn the line at a tailored shirt and trousers. But the trousers would be military, high-waisted to cinch his already waspish midriff and the accompanying jacket would be lacking any buttons or zips, forest green suede short in the back but at the front waterfalling asymmetrically from exposed collar bone to thigh, sleeves ruched tight around his arms but halting short of his pale wrists and Kami-sama help me but if the three high school girls, two suited women with cellphones and hungover salarymen don't stop staring at me like that I will run screaming off this train oh help me what if they take a photo?_

"_Stare back" A proprietary hand slipped round Subaru's waist, so warm and firm he practically jumped out of Hokuto's creation. Long fingers splayed teasingly one by one over a sharp hipbone._

"_I guarantee they will stop if you do"_

"…_Seishirou-san"_

_Subaru could only manage a whisper. The older man's imposing frame pressed lightly against his back, a sharp jawline threatened to nuzzle at his temple and – Kami-sama forgive me I don't know what I feel – that voice, dark and amused resonated to the pit of his belly like how he imagined warm sake would imbibed quickly in one gulp._

"_Your beauty mesmerizes them, Subaru. As it does me"_

_Subaru lifted unseeing pupils._

_The women's eyes widened and they along with the students hid flushed faces in flickering hands. The men coughed awkwardly and turned away. Subaru noticed in a daze that he was arching his neck to murmuring lips, felt scarlet colour his cheeks, sweat prick his covered palms. Oh what is this, this hot something, I - We are on the rush hour train._

"_Seishirou-san…we-"_

"Welcome to Merlotte's, can I take your order?"

Subaru removed his clenched fist from enclosing palm and spread his fingers out over the freshly wiped table. The waitress was petite, blonde-haired and…chirpy. Then Subaru felt the wave of magic threaded around her ponytailed head like a flower garland and tipping her fingers like a golden manicure.

"Just water, thank you. But I would like to speak to your manager, if possible"

Clear eyes blinked in surprise before their owner collected herself.

"Sam? He's in the back doing accounts right now; I don't think he'll be too pleased to be interrupted. But-" here she fixed him with a peculiar, knowing stare. Only for a millisecond, but Subaru felt the gentle tapping on his mental defences and lifted his mismatched gaze to hers, catching her name badge on the way up. Sookie. Like Suki? Hokuto laughed in his head. A perfect name for a cute girl, ne?

_I wouldn't mind the intrusion if you asked first. _

Sookie gasped, nearly dropping her notepad in the process. Whipping her head round to check she hadn't attracted undue attention, she leant forward slightly, her head at a confidential angle.

"I'm sorry - If I'd known, I – well. I'm sorry", she repeated. "Are you also-"

Subaru lifted a hand to stop her.

"No, I'm not one of-", and stopped to find the right English, "Fairy blood as you might call it, but I _can_ feel you trying to get into my head"

"Well, I am sorry. Most folks can't tell when I listen in and when I saw you I wasn't sure if you were a vamp or a werewolf, or something else I don't know we have in this town that's out of a fairytale or Greek myth or something. I just wanted to check"

Subaru nodded in acceptance of her apology.

"In that case I…" Subaru glanced at the menu. It _had_ been a while since he'd last eaten, last night's dinner the only meal he'd had in two days, and it _was_ America, so…he frowned at the memory of his grandmother lecturing him on the evils of eating meat before a job. He hadn't contacted her in months. For her part, she seemed to have given up on him too. Having a grandson who exorcises the dead is one thing. A grandson who also kills people and more supernatural beings for a living was apparently quite another.

" - will have the water, with the best burger you have, please"

The girl beamed, her ponytail practically bouncing as she wrote his order briskly on the small notepad.

"Coming right up"

Subaru ran through his mental checklist. Find place to stay. Introduce self to Vampire King. Introduce self to local (non-human) sheriff. Glean most recent information on Russell Edgington. Restore balance in recently magic-swamped, disarrayed Bon Temps, possibly assist in truce between local supernatural population if necessary. Find out who freed Russell Edgington. Dispatch those responsible along with said Russell Edgington. In case of death, my entire estate to go to -

Subaru frowned again. He'd skipped an item. As a smiling Sookie brought him a mouthwateringly hot burger decorated with requisite salad and fries, Subaru wondered if Sheriff Northman would appreciate another kind of lawman presiding on his turf. He opened his mouth and took a bite.


	2. Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: I do not own True Blood or Tokyo Babylon, more's the pity.

2. _You want the same as I so stop pretending – Natalia Kills, Wonderland._

The blood slowly seeped out of the corner of his mouth, not from sloppiness – a thousand years of feeding on punctured arteries encouraged a fastidiousness of sorts when it came to imbibing liquids – Eric Northman simply didn't care, and wiping the trickle away later with a long index finger and wrapping his tongue around said digit would provide another distraction from his current preoccupation.

Sookie Stackhouse had decided to have nothing more to do with him.

The vampire curled fingers into a cold fist. Her lengthy goodbye played on loop in his head. Secretly he had envied Bill – not only would the much younger vampire be forever Sookie's first love, he had somehow attained a Zen-like calm and serenity when it came to the blonde haired human's disownment of them both, enough to be first in denying any care for her safety to a fuming, and thankfully now deceased Nan Flanagan and composed enough to spend his nights apparently committed to being _a good King_. Eric knew enough to assume Bill's insides were twisted into sailor's knots at the separation, his own were –

_She will never be yours._

Eric remembered Bill's face then, drawn tight with threat, eyes darkened in challenge. He had scoffed at the other vampire's gesture of ownership then, knowing full well Bill was no match for his thousand-year-old prowess. But Bill had been right.

Eric stuck the finger in his mouth and sucked viciously.

"If I knew where he was, _Audrey_, do you not think I would be right there with him and giving him a piece of my FUCKING MIND?"

Subaru mentally sighed. Once Sam Merlotte was satisfied the newcomer was not interested in killing, maiming or possessing any of his friends or customers but was here to help restore order, the Shifter had given him as much information on recent events in Bon Temps and Jackson as he personally knew, pointed out others who had seen, heard and suffered (Subaru had not needed to be told Sookie was among them and Sam had not mentioned her name) and then given him directions to Fangtasia. It turned out Eric Northman was absent without leave and in his place a spitfire in heels.

The abruptly monikered Pam was justifiably angry over something, he admitted. Still, Subaru did not appreciate the Hepburn tag. His hair had grown back out into something resembling the elfin mop of his teens, but being labeled girlish conjured dark things that he had spent too long trying to forget. He made a mental note to start wearing something other than black turtlenecks, bowed respectfully and turned on his heel. A skittish woman in an improbably short skirt he'd heard called Ginger made a passing gesture at the slammed door before him and managed a sympathetic, if tremulous smile.

"Wait"

Subaru paused.

"Why the fuck _are_ you here? What do you want with Eric?"

Subaru turned back to the light-eyed harpie and looked meaningfully at the chair. This was going to be a long explanation.

"May I sit?"

"Spread your legs for all I care, just get on with it"

_In the near total darkness Subaru could still make out the lines of the body approaching his bed. He slowly stretched out his arm in silent invitation. A whisper as a long coat was swept upwards and a familiar weight settled on the mattress by his waist._

"_Why do you keep doing this, Seishirou-san?"_

_Even with the curtains closed, the Cheshire-cat smile was a wicked, glimmering crescent that made his stomach twist in anticipation._

"_Isn't that my line, Subaru-kun? You're the one who calls me here almost every night"_

_Subaru sat up in bed, the sheets pooling in his lap, and slowly leaned into the assassin, his head curling naturally into the place where the older man's shoulder met his neck, for all the world like they had been lovers every night of their lives._

"_But we have been, have we not, Subaru-kun?"_

_That warm voice flowed through him where his cold blood could not. Subaru felt the heat it spread down to his fingertips and through all of his toes. Yes, he thought, we have been lovers since before I knew what to call our relationship, sad, painful, twisted thing that it is._

"_Since this is _my _dream, Seishirou-san, I have a request"_

_Subaru felt the smile on that mouth as it grazed the line of his throat and sent lightning skittering across his brain._

"_Anything for you, Subaru-kun"_

_Subaru took one long look at the odd-eyed face millimeters from his own and reached up with hands that looked steadier than they felt to rake through jet-black hair before closing his eyes to welcome oblivion._

"_Make me forget"_

"_Forget what?" The fire inside burst into life and through the blaze Subaru could still determine those elegant hands and ravenous mouth molding his skin into molten liquid as golden and scorching as his lover's eyes. Striving, ascending, aflame, he gasped for air in the brief respite when Seishirou's mouth abandoned his for the delicate area by his jugular._

"_Make me forget that you're dead"_

"So, what I'm essentially asking for is your help, if there is any you can give me"

Subaru clasped his hands in his lap and leaned back slightly into the chair. He had told Pam his purpose here and duly noted the pulse of fragility that has crossed her stony face at the first mention of Russell Edgington's name and the reminder that he was once again at large but nowhere to be found, for now. After that it had been easier to track her tiny facial reactions in regard to the absent Northman. There was a relationship between them. Subaru deducted as much from the way the statuesque vampire's hands tightened in a defiant, protective gesture not a million miles away from Hokuto's whenever she had found him the subject of playground taunts when they were children.

"Alright. But first, _you_ find Eric. I'm not prepared to sign up for anything before he gives his consent. I don't need to be reminded not to go against what he says"

The latter sentence found a drop in her speaking volume, as if she had spoken the last words as an afterthought to herself. Ginger coughed awkwardly behind him. Subaru lifted a curious eyebrow as Pam apparently lost herself to her thoughts for a brief moment, perfectly manicured hands pausing mid-stroke along the desk. The vampire looked up with a curt stare, clearly irritated he was still in her office.

"You want more? Ask Ginger anything you want. I'm not up for cross-examination, baby doll. _You_ find Eric, _then_ ask me again. I have a business to run"

Subaru rose, bowed expressionless despite her obvious sneer at the gesture, and walked out. Ginger closed the door with what could have been a curtsey to the seated vampire and let out a shaky breath, eyes wide with bewildered admiration.

"I don't know who you are mister or how you do it, but lemme tell you, that was a _good_ mood"

Subaru's eyes narrowed at the puncture marks on the woman's white neck. Ginger caught his gaze and straightened with surprising defiance.

"Don't misunderstand now, I put up a good fight when I mean to. And I shoot pretty well too", she fussed with her peroxide locks, "but get this straight", and her voice lowered, "I _understand_ her"

Subaru bowed an apology. "Then she is lucky to have you"

Sookie parked her car in the same space every week. The day's shift done, she drove straight from Merlotte's to the hospital every Friday night, regular as clockwork. At first she'd seen the empty parking space as a useful coincidence. Now she knew the staff at the hospital had made arrangements so that she was the only one who had use of it on Friday evenings. She didn't know whether to thank them or ask them to spare her their pity – in any case, she'd read their thoughts to find _that_ information out, so regardless of which response she would eventually choose it would go unspoken.

It was the only time she got to spend with her best friend.

Even now Sookie could feel it, transport herself back to the darkened kitchen and gone-now suddenly here and dangerous-Debbie firing the shot that Tara – brave, stupid, bullheaded protective Tara – accepted in her place. The rage that had consumed Sookie once she got hold of the gun had terrified and empowered her. It was the same primal, brutal, monosyllabic power that had gripped her when she channeled what little arm power she had into staking Lorena _you have hurt something that is mine someone that I love you will suffer_. On finally returning home after the police had finished up she thanked the Lord for small mercies on discovering that forensics had taken it upon themselves to clean up the kitchen floor as best they could. She hadn't been to keen on the idea of wiping what was left of Debbie's face off the linoleum.

Tara wouldn't wake up.

The doctors, nurses, specialists – not a goddamn one could explain it and even if they could Sookie doubted it would prove much comfort. The bullet they'd managed to remove. Her flesh they had stitched back up again. Her heart they'd restarted. But still Tara slept. Her vitals were good, Sookie was told every time she asked the same questions no one had answers to. There was no reason why she should still be unconscious. But she was. Tara slept, and slept and soon Sookie found herself looking at old photos just to remind herself what her best friend's eyes had looked like when they were open. The coma had set around her like a vice.

Sookie tried not to think it, but the thought persisted. _She won't wake up because she does not want to wake up. She has had enough._

"Me too, Tara", Sookie whispered to the dim room, Tara's still hand comfortingly warm in hers, the machinery beeping steadily in the background. Sookie stamped the floor half-heartedly. She hadn't come here tonight to grieve – she had come to tell Tara all about the week's goings-on, who ordered what, what Lafayette was doing, what was on tv, the Asian man with mismatched eyes who knew she was a fairy without her telling him –

"Oh yeah", Sookie sniffled into her palm, "I almost forgot. There's a new guy in town".


End file.
